Two Dates
by Hoodoo
Summary: Chronicles two dates Face and Murdock share.  Sequel to "Because It Is Bitter, and Because It Is My Heart"; no slash.
1. Date 1: Act 1

Standard disclaimer: No recognizable characters are mine. They just run through my head and have zany adventures, which, due to a muse who uses an icepick to the inside of my skull, I am forced to type out and share with all you lovely people.

The following is a sequel-ish follow-up to **"Because It Is Bitter, And Because It Is My Heart."** It chronicles two separate dates that Murdock, Face and (yes) Kerry go on. No slash, no explicitly sexy/smutty activities; sorry! If you're super interested in that, email or PM me and I'm happy to share some hardcore scenes containing the three of them. ;)

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><p><em>Date #1:<em>

"Hey Faceman—what'cha doing today?"

Face shrugged. "Not much planned. Gotta run through some figures and call some people back. Administrative stuff."

"So not too busy, huh?"

He looked Murdock straight in the eye. "What're you driving at?"

Now Murdock shrugged. "Just wondered if you'd like to go out."

"Out? Where?"

He shrugged again. "I've got a place in mind."

Face occasionally regretted letting Murdock choose venues, especially when the pilot was being elusive about their destination. There couldn't be a miniature golf course or "Mystery Hill" or god-awful petting zoo in this part of the country they hadn't visited yet. This time—

"An airfield, Murdock?"

"I rented a chopper," his friend said self-importantly. Then his voice dropped a little, into the hopefully cautious range, like somewhere beneath the crazy he knew Face only put up with his ideas because of friendship and he could really strain those boundaries. "Thought we could go for a ride . . .?"

It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Murdock was watching him as if he expected him to be upset, however, so he reassured,

"That's cool. It's been a while since we've flown."

A dazzling grin broke over Murdock's face.


	2. Date 1: Act 2

They found a parking spot and stepped out of the jeep. Once out, before locking the doors, Murdock muttered to himself as he double-checked his pockets to make sure all his essentials were in place: hat, sunglasses, lip balm, keys—

"This is a nice little airfield, Murdock," Face said, looking the area over. "And they've got choppers to rent? How'd you find it—"

"Hey! Hi!"

Face turned at the interruption. His jaw dropped slightly at the sight of the person calling out and running up to them.

Murdock laughed and caught Kerry as she reached the two. "Knew I was missing something!" he exclaimed.

She laughed too and kissed him.

"And you did manage to bring Face!" she said, joyfully. She left Murdock and went to Face. Her entire aura radiated happiness. "It's nice to see you again, Temp. I'm so glad you came!"

He accepted her hug gladly. He accepted her kiss with surprise. "I'm glad too," he told her. "Although I didn't know—"

"Oh, whatever!" Kerry interrupted again. "Come on—help me carry all the stuff. Helipad is behind the main hangar, so we have to walk a bit."

She took Murdock's hand and led them to her car. Face had to remind him to lock their own vehicle.

"All the stuff" included a heavy basket, a canvas tote bag, and a blanket.

"I don't need my purse, do I?" Kerry asked, then locked it in the trunk of her car when told no.

Murdock, dancing with anticipation to get to the helicopter as soon as possible, was saddled with the basket. It didn't seem to slow him down much, but her admonishing,

"Careful! There's a bottle of wine in there and I don't want anything to spill!"

stopped him from jumping around.

The three made it to airport control, filled out and signed the remaining paperwork, then finally got to the helipad to load the chopper. Murdock practically squealed with glee as they got everything settled and he climbed into the cockpit.

Face, still burning with questions, deferred to the back of the small vehicle. Kerry crawled in beside Murdock gingerly and looked lost for a moment.

"So . . . first time in one of these?" It sounded like a lame pick-up line. There were so many things he needed to ask . . . and that stupid question was the first one that made it out of the gate.

"Yeah," Kerry replied. "Murdock's taken me up in some fixed-wings, but never in a helicopter."

Even more questions jumped into the pile in his brain.

"Choppers are loud," Face told her as Murdock went through pre-flight checks. "You'll need to wear the headset and mouthpiece if you want to hear or talk to anyone."

"Okay!"

She found the headset on the control panel and adjusted it over her head.

A short time later, once pre-flights were completed and they received the all-clear from tower, Murdock lifted them off and up into the clouds. His delight translated into a non-stop stream-of-consciousness commentary, which made it difficult to have a conversation. But he was so happy that it didn't matter much.

Kerry grinned because Murdock was ecstatic, and when she glanced at Face, he was powerless to stop beaming either. She reached back and squeezed his hand, then watched the landscape below them.


	3. Date 1: Act 3

Because of the basket, Face knew that a picnic was planned; he just didn't know that Murdock was going to set the helicopter down in a random field, away from most civilization.

"No farmer's going to be upset we're ruining his . . . corn or hay, or something, right?" Face asked, looking suspiciously at the ground and not getting out of the chopper.

Kerry laughed at him. "Look at this field! It's all full of weeds! Not a crop in sight."

He still left the vehicle with trepidation.

"City boy, huh?" Kerry teased. "It's fine. We got permission."

That put him at ease, and he helped spread the blanket on top of the grasses. When they finally sat down with the basket, the plants beneath them crushed. If they lay back, the only things visible were the tall weeds surrounding them and the sky above. Murdock immediately assumed that position.

Through the course of the meal, Face discovered that since the team had been back in the general vicinity, his friend gotten in contact with Kerry. It should have been obvious, but Face tried to keep information and thoughts and feelings regarding the particular time the team had spent here before under wraps. He had never once even asked, after they had left, how Murdock was doing or if he thought he made a mistake or anything. Just another prime example of the infamous Templeton Peck selfishness.

Kerry had gotten a job at the airfield—

"Nothing glamorous, just a ramp agent."

—which told Face that some essence of Murdock germinated in her brain, that she hadn't gotten over Murdock either, and had been hopeful he'd swing by this area again.

Funny how things work out sometimes.

It wasn't as uncomfortable as he would have imagined it to be, if he'd dwelled on how a reunion would go. After lunch the two of them joined Murdock on their backs, staring up at the clouds. The sun was hot, and the smell of crushed weeds was pleasant.

Face looked over. Kerry had her head on Murdock's shoulder, and at his head turn, she looked at him. She gave him a smile.

Actually, this was much more comfortable Face ever could have expected. He sat up. Stretching over Murdock, he brushed Kerry's forehead to move her hair out of her eyes. Murdock protested,

"Hey—you're blocking my view!"

"Well, you're blocking mine!" Face retorted, and at Kerry's giggle, he chuckled too. With an exaggerated motion—including dropping an elbow into Murdock's abdomen just for play—Face climbed over both of them to settle at Kerry's other side.

She moved from resting her head on Murdock's shoulder to laying flat on her back. "How is this fair?" she asked. "Before, I could see both of you. Now it's just one at a time!"

"Too bad," Face answered, and carefully, more carefully than he adjusted her hair, he took her hand.

Murdock picked up his head and saw the hand-holding. Face met his eyes, but briefly. With a lop-sided smirk, like his friend was slow, Murdock shook his head and settled back down to stare at the sky again.

The three lay contentedly for a long while, until it was time to return the chopper.


	4. Date 2: Act 1

_Date #2, in multiple acts._

_Act 1:_

Since they were back in this part of the world, Murdock, and by default the rest of the team, saw Kerry more frequently. And since the couple had taken him on a picnic and nothing seemed overtly awkward, Face decided it was okay to ask them out to dinner.

He was probably over thinking it, but he was still a little concerned it may seem inappropriate or odd; he made sure to ask them together. His palms were sweaty as he did, causing him to berate himself internally for being such a virgin. He'd asked hundreds—thousands—of people out before! Just because this was his best friend and his best friend's girl shouldn't put that much spin on the situation! But it did, and—

In the eternal second after his invitation, Murdock and Kerry exchanged a look, and then while Murdock smiled, Kerry answered,

"We'd love to! That sounds great."

Relief flooded him and they set their plans. Although nothing—Face fished for the proper word even in his own mind; he decided on risqué—had transpired since the team returned (he didn't count occasional hand-holding and the even more occasional passing kiss), he briefly wondered if he ought to find a short term lease on another apartment. A private place, since Hannibal and B.A. couldn't be counted on to make themselves scarce if . . .

Pump the brakes, Temp, he told himself. You don't even know if . . . _that_ . . . is still on the table.

Face made a reservation at his favorite Asian fusion restaurant in the area. Even though it was sporadic, his patronage wasn't forgotten, and it wasn't difficult to get a table even on short notice.

That Saturday night he was pleasantly surprised to knock on Murdock's bedroom door and find his friend dressed in pressed slacks, a buttoned shirt in a green jewel tone, and a tailored vest that Face hadn't ever seen before. He wondered simultaneously if the rich green was a compromise Murdock made instead of his beloved Hawaiian shirts and if he chose the color because it complimented his eyes.

His inner fashionista was also secretly happy it didn't clash with the sports coat he was wearing.

They left the house, calling good-bye to the other two—Murdock added to not wait up!—and out to the Dodge Charger Face had _borrowed_, he insisted, _not_ rented. Rental cars had rental stickers and rental swag all over them, and that was a loser move. It wasn't anything he was going to drive around in.

Murdock pointed out that it seemed to be okay to Face to rent a car if someone _else_ was driving it, so long as _Face_ wasn't behind the wheel. Face harrumphed. They argued good-humoredly about it until they got to Kerry's place.

Before they had the chance to get to her door, she was out, yelling farewells to her roommate.

Both men, one not even around the front of the car yet, stopped as she said in a voice that was obvious she didn't want her roommate to hear,

"Go! Get in the car and let's go!"

Murdock took her order with aplomb and pivoted on his heel to get back in the car. Face stood uncertainly for a moment, but when Kerry opened the rear door herself and dove in, he returned to the driver's seat.

Kerry was laughing as she lay across the back seat.

"Go, Temp! Don't look at the house, just go!"

Her laughter infected Murdock, who joined her without knowing why. Face complied, even as he asked,

"What the hell was that all about?"

"Oh, my roommate's all depressed. She would have tried to weasel her way in on our night out. I didn't want you to come in and meet her—you're too nice and would have invited her along."

Face glanced at the rear view mirror and saw her straightening her dress out. He noted the paisley silk matched everything he and Murdock wore. As she finished and leaned between the two front seats, he shifted his eyes back to the road.

"And, more importantly," Kerry continued, "I didn't want to have to share either of you with her!"

She crouched forward and kissed Murdock's cheek, then turned and kissed Face's. Face grinned and didn't mind when Murdock climbed through the car to join her in the back seat.


	5. Date 2: Act 2

_Act 2:_

The restaurant was busy and a mob of people were waiting both outside as well as in the foyer, but Face pushed his way through the crowd with the other two at his heels and sidled up to the hostess quickly.

She broke into a smile as she recognized him and held out her hand; he took it.

"Mr. Peck! Welcome back!" She accepted his kiss on the cheek. "I have your reservation here, for . . . three? Would you like your usual table . . .?"

"Something a little more private, if you could, Ana," he replied, stepping close into her personal space to be heard over the babble of voices. He lightly pressed a hand into the small of her back.

"Of course! If you please, follow me."

Face took Kerry's hand, and she took Murdock's, and the three of them made their way through the throng in the atrium and into the restaurant proper. The sounds from the crowd became muted.

Ana took them around the periphery of the seating to a circular, more private booth. It was dimmer here too, and although they could see the main seating floor, it was even quieter.

Face and Murdock deferred to Kerry, who slid around the seat to the middle. Murdock joined her, and after he thanked the hostess with another kiss, Face took the spot on her other side.

Their waiter was quick to bring menus. If Murdock noticed his menu was the same as Kerry's and didn't have prices listed inside, he didn't mention it. He became much more interested in the fact the waiter, although he spoke very good English, was foreign.

He ran through his Asian languages until he clicked with Mandarin. The waiter was duly impressed and the two of them talked for several minutes.

"I suppose you speak that too?" Kerry asked Face.

"No. Vietnamese and a tiny bit of Korean. Murdock'll teach you, if you want. He's good with languages."

"I don't think I'm smart enough for something like that," she answered, watching Murdock and the waiter continue. "I've got trouble with English some days."

Face chuckled. "You'd be surprised how easy it might be with him as a teacher."

She nodded distractedly, skimming the menu again. "Oh! Lychee martinis! I have to order that!"

"Sure. As many as you want."

Kerry glanced sideways from the menu at him. "You're a lecher, Templeton Peck. Trying to get me drunk to take advantage of me?"

Face was almost able to hide his smile and look contrite.

"You should know I don't need alcohol for you to do something like that," she continued demurely.

The combination of prim and suggestive made him laugh out loud. She laughed with him.

Murdock finished his conversation and the waiter bowed, and then stepped away.

"I didn't get to order my drink!"

"I got it," Murdock told her, taking her hand and bringing her fingers to his lips. "Lychee martini, right?"

"Be careful with that mouth," Kerry told him as he kissed her fingertips. She leaned closer to whisper in his ear, "It's too sweet for its own good, and may get you into trouble later."

Face didn't hear the second part of her sentence, but the salaciousgrin that crept over Murdock's face said plenty. When Murdock's eyes caught his, Face couldn't help but wet his lips and reach out to brush Kerry's thigh through her skirt.

By the time the waiter returned to take their orders, the three of them were sitting proper and composed again.

Eventually their server brought back drinks—sake for Face, iced tea for Murdock and Kerry's bright pink martini. A peeled lychee adorned the glass, and with another slight bow, the waiter set a separate bowl of the fruit on the table before leaving again.

Kerry clapped her hands with delight at the unexpected bowl.

"More lychees! How—"

She turned to Murdock, who watched her with a shy smile.

"I told you, I got it," he explained. "I know they're your favorite."

"You remembered . . ."

He shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. "Yes. I asked Ling if he could help me indulge you and your lychee fetish. I didn't even know I had the word "fetish" in Mandarin."

"See—you should have him teach you some foreign language," Face advised her.

"He does have a very agile tongue," Kerry replied, and the two of them laughed at Murdock's blush.

Conversation stayed light and easy while they waited for their meals. Kerry didn't know how to operate chopsticks, so a quick lesson was given, which lead to an impromptu chopstick-slash-sword fight, which made Murdock add sound effects as if his stick was a light saber, which led to a giggle fit and the three of them ended up leaning against one another.

"Never mind; forget the chopsticks!" Kerry declared. "It'd be easier to just eat with my hands."

She demonstrated by popping a lychee into her mouth.

Face watched the motion. "What do those taste like?"

"You've never had one?" she asked in reply, as if surprised that she'd done something in her dull life that he hadn't.

Face shook his head.

"They're incredible! They're sweet and floral and divine!"

"They're like eating the fruit from a perfume tree," Murdock commented drily.

"Oh, what do you know?" Kerry said, slapping his arm playfully.

"I know I've drunk perfume that isn't as cloying as those," he replied, eyeing the fleshy white fruit on the table in front of her with aversion.

She nudged him again. "Perfume isn't cloying—it's bitter from all the alcohol in it!"

That was the reason they got along so well, Face thought. She just rolls with him, doesn't get too shocked with his off-the-cuff comments, and doesn't act like she's playing along or just putting up with him.

Murdock paused, caught up in her logic, and then grinned. "Still don't like 'em!"

"Fine!" Kerry replied triumphantly. "More for me!"

Face watched a subtle shift in his friend's expression, from distaste to shyly hopeful.

"I don't mind kissing you after you've been eating them," he admitted softly.

"Hmm . . ." she replied, looking over him critically before leaning closer to discover if he was being truthful.

The kiss was unhurried and sensual, and seeing their tongues touching between their lips was more than a little arousing to Face.

They didn't make him clear his throat or anything obvious before finishing the kiss. Kerry winked at Murdock, who settled back with an arm over her shoulders.

"So you've really never tried one of these?" Kerry asked again, indicating the bowl of fruit as if a moment of lust hadn't interrupted the conversation.

"Never even heard of them."

"Blasphemy! Well, here. Try one. You'll see that Murdock is wrong."

"Pass one here," he challenged, "using your chopsticks."

As she squawked in protest and another chopstick lesson started again, Murdock only half listened. Face was fun to observe with women—he genuinely, raptly paid attention to them and put them at ease. Even if he took notes and was coached, Murdock knew he couldn't be as smooth as Face. Face'd make a good politician if he wasn't so dishonest.

Wait—he'd make a great politician because he was so good at being dishonest! If he could avoid getting caught_ by_ the government, he could get a great job_ in _the government—

"Don't stab things with them! That's horribly uncouth!"

As interesting as studying Face's techniques were, Murdock had seen it plenty of times and instead watched the people throughout the restaurant. He could almost see a pattern in the movements, some underlying universal truth and message if he just squinted his eyes—

"I give up!" Kerry said sharply. "Here—just eat it!"

Focused on the pattern, Murdock was only casually aware of his girlfriend scooping a lychee from the bowl with her hands, and holding it out for Face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Face not grab it with chopsticks, but lean forward and take it from her with his mouth. Kerry sucked in a gasp.

Part of Murdock was vaguely conscious that what they were doing was erotic, and it might be nice to pay attention. But something else, a mar in the kaleidoscope of people in front of him drew his focus. Something . . .

Kerry groaned and shuddered arousingly against him. She reached for the bowl again—

Something was coming—

—she held another lychee out to Face again, cupping her fingers to contain the juice. Face leaned closer—

—something that didn't flow with the rest of the swirling mass of people, something angular and stiff—

—instead of taking the fruit immediately, Face drew his tongue up the outside of Kerry's fingers to catch the sweet liquid leaking from between them—

"El Diablo," Murdock muttered.

—reaching her fingertips he picked the lychee out of her hand again, closing his lips on her fingers to make her catch her breath in that delicious way again—

—and Captain Charissa Sosa came up to the table and stood before them.


	6. Date 2: Act 3

_Act 3:_

Like a shadow crossing the sun, a pall fell over the table.

Face recoiled and the lychee he'd just gotten into his mouth hit the back of his throat. As suave as he was, no one looked good retching and choking.

Kerry immediately moved to help him but was held in place by Murdock tightening his arm over her shoulders. She threw a glance back at him and was surprised that he was very minutely shaking his head. The expression on his face was tight and cautious. Instead of assisting Face, she carefully wiped her hand on a napkin, then laced her fingers in her lap.

Face managed to swallow the fruit whole and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"C-charissa!" he said, with a strangled voice. "What a . . . surprise."

"Captain," the woman in front of them said, giving Murdock a curt nod.

His expression closed up even more, and became wary.

"And el-tee," she continued, turning towards Face. "Oh, I'm sorry—that was prior to . . . everything."

After his initial astonishment, Face seemed speechless.

"I've not had the pleasure of meeting you," Sosa said, directing her gaze at Kerry. Although the individual words were polite, enough chill accompanied the delivery to put Kerry on edge.

Murdock wasn't as familiar as Face in woman-to-woman interactions, but Charissa's tone immediately amped his guard. The universal pattern he'd been so captivated by was fragmented into chaos at the Captain's appearance, and it made him anxious. Murdock worked to remain looking casually relaxed, all the while keeping a tight hold on Kerry's shoulders. Although Kerry was fun and smart in her own way, she was no match for a career military woman.

Of course, a career military woman was no match for two ex-Rangers, one with a history of mental illness. So if El Diablo thought she needed to start something here . . .

Face found his tongue since the tension flooding the table muted Kerry. "This is Kerry," he replied congenially, as if this was merely a chance social call. "Murdock's girlfriend."

Charissa shifted her sharp gaze back to Face.

_"Murdock's_ girlfriend?" she asked. The emphasis was enough to indicate how much she believed that.

So she saw Kerry feeding him, Face realized. Even if she hadn't, Charissa always had a way of making him feel flayed, laid open, so she could pick apart and judge him.

Then he realized it didn't matter. What happened between him and the Captain was a long time ago, another life ago. Even if she partially came around and helped orchestrate their second escape, she certainly hadn't done anything to make their lives any easier since then. There had been times when he or Hannibal had gotten Intel that she was actively part of the hunt for them, due to her past relationship with him. Those types of reports were less and less frequent now, since Hannibal's team eluded the MPs and everyone else who was after them for so long . . .

"Yes," Face insisted as she waited for another lie. "Murdock's girlfriend."

Her continued disbelief was palatable. Face resisted the urge to bait her and ask in return _what,_ exactly, didn't she believe: that Kerry wasn't _his_ girl, or that _Murdock_ could have a girlfriend?

Instead, he asked with exaggerated graciousness, "And who are you here with, Charissa? Your lackies? Or are you lone wolfing it tonight?"

"Is this where you ask us to not make a scene and come along quietly?" Murdock asked at the same time.

Sosa looked back and forth between the two men, and like so many times before, barely tolerated Murdock's query.

"I'm alone," she replied. "I just saw my old flame with his buddy and this . . . woman, and I thought I'd pop over and say hi."

Face and Murdock exchanged glances. Face muttered something in a foreign language, and Murdock started as if poked with a pin. He answered back quickly. Sosa began radiating impatience, while Kerry tipped her head back and forth between the two of them, not comfortable enough to pick her head up too much.

In the middle of one of Face's responses, Murdock cut him off in a clipped tone.

Face's lips became a thin line, then unexpectedly he slid out of the booth and took Charissa's elbow.

"Why don't we go somewhere else and have a private chat?" he said to her, tugging her away from the table.

She started to protest. Face tightened his grip and swung around beside her, deftly putting his other arm around her waist.

"Remember how I handcuffed you to a photo booth?" he hissed. "I'll do it right here, too."

His inconspicuously dangled the cuffs he'd lifted from her at her side.

Charissa tried to object, but an ominous click of the handcuffs convinced her that Face was more than willing to humiliate her again. She allowed him to march her away in a parody of two ex-lovers having a friendly embrace and wanting to catch up privately.

When the two were gone, the most of the "flight or fight" tautness left Murdock. Kerry hadn't known how high it had been running in him until he started to relax.

"We're going to have to go," he told her.

"Who is that? What's going on?"

Even if the tension dissipated somewhat, the seriousness in his voice scared her.

"Face's old girlfriend. El Diablo. Someone who, even if she doesn't personally want to find us, will be honor-bound to tell people who _do_ personally want to find us where she saw us."

"What?"

Murdock shook his head. "Kerry . . ."

She asked, "what?" again, and he wanted to tell her, he really did—she'd already accepted his mental . . . instabilities and his weird relationship with his friends and his even weirder-borderline-creepy-with-gay-overtones relationship with Face; he didn't know if she could handle hearing that he and the others were actually federal fugitives, then cursed himself because he knew she _could _handle it, she already handled so much; he _wanted_ to tell her but knew, deep down, if he didn't then she couldn't be held liable for abetting them; what he really didn't know is if she'd be willing to visit him in whatever VA psych ward they'd throw him into—he didn't want to lose this, what he had, what _they_ had—

He wanted to tell her all that, but the words got tangled with two other languages inside his head. It was rare that he couldn't articulate—rarer even than Face, who was blessed with a silver tongue—but this was one of those times.

In lieu of trying to answer verbally, Murdock opted to try and answer her questions with action instead.

He moved his hand from Kerry's shoulder to the nape of her neck and pulled her closer. He saw the string of questions in her eyes, and desperately hoped answers could be passed directly from his thoughts to hers as he caught her mouth in a kiss.

Interpretive fooling around. Performance art kissing.

Though concerned at the situation and surprised that Murdock seemed to shut down vocally, Kerry nonetheless pressed into him and rolled her tongue against his. Even more anxiety drained away from him, and as contentment took its place, she couldn't help but feel the same way.


	7. Date 2: Act 4

_Act 4:_

This was bad. So bad. Never once did Face even give a passing thought that maybe—just maybe—a chance coincidence could throw someone from their past up against them. Not that people from their past would never find them—but to run across them when they weren't actively looking? That was just Lady Luck kicking you in the teeth.

Face made his way back through the kitchen, back to the dining area. He knew, deep inside where his moral center usually hid, that what he did was uncalled for, but superficially, it made him happy. And she should be happy too, that he didn't handcuff her just to be spiteful.

Charissa just jumping at them like a damn jack-in-the-box, cock-blocking him, both deeply shocked and pissed him off. He'd escorted her brusquely through the prep station of the kitchen, passed the cries of,

"Sir! Sir! You can't come through here!"

He forced her to walk through the restaurant's proper kitchen, all the while muttering questions and demanding answers from her.

"What are you doing here? What the fuck were you trying to do? Don't feed me a bunch of bullshit about seeing us and wanting to catch up—you could have been a fuckload nicer if you wanted to pull that lie off. Where is your back up? When are the MPs getting here? Do you think I'm stupid enough to believe you didn't call the MPs when you saw us? That you actually _did_ just want to talk to us?"

They marched passed a storage room and out an emergency fire exit into the alleyway behind the building.

Just as he'd ignored the working staff, he ignored Charissa's attempts to answer him. It swiftly became obvious to her that Face didn't care whether or not she replied. She stopped trying to be polite, and found her demands to be let go, that he was making a mistake, and "damn it Face, just stop this this instant!" were ignored as well.

He refused to entertain her for a second. He knew she was like a drug to a recovering addict: once sweet hit and he'd be done. He told himself he didn't want her any more, he didn't _need_ her anymore. She was his past, he had no use for her in his future.

Without hesitation he shoved her out the door. Charissa stumbled as she hit the asphalt outside.

"You're making a big mistake."

She repeated the warning as he pulled the door shut.

Face paused a moment. "It isn't my first with you."

He saw the pained expression on her face and it almost—_almost_—made him let her back in. Then the door finished closing automatically, and the resulting click from the door latch into the frame sounded like a prison cell in lockdown.

He didn't hesitate any longer; he turned and hurried back to the table.

Face didn't think Charissa would turn the hounds on the team—well, maybe she wouldn't have, until he dumped her in a dirty alley, the rational part of his brain said. It was let out more often than his moral center, but still hid in the same dusty corner of his mind. Maybe she _did_ just want to talk. If she wanted to drag you and Murdock in she wouldn't have just sauntered over; she would have called for support and had you surrounded before you two could tear your eyes away from each other! Face mentally kicked a battered door shut over the rational voice—but he didn't ever think she'd get all weirdly possessive either.

He'd never pegged her for someone who'd hold a secret crush; with her he figured it was more like one strike and you're out. But she'd never seen him with another woman, so maybe the green-eyed monster was just dormant until she witnessed it herself that Templeton Peck didn't dwell on the past and pine over lost relationships.

Face shook his head. Who cared what she thought? Why was he so shaken up by her? He needed to focus on what was important right at this very moment: the freedom and safety of the team.

They needed to leave. Get out and far away from here. And as much as it pained him, as much as this _one_ time Face wished they could pull it off, there couldn't be any of that "staying put and hiding under people's noses because they won't expect it" crap that Hannibal seemed to like.

None of the others were going to be happy about this. Hannibal was getting some strong bites on the line for the next job. B.A. just got the garage in a state of order that he could work in. And Murdock . . . and Kerry . . .

. . . no one would like this turn of events, but the team was used to it. Hopefully Kerry would understand too. Face never found out what Murdock had told her after they disappeared the last time, or what he told her when they came back.

But it would work out. It'd be okay.


	8. Date 2: Act 5

_Act 5:_

Face knew that Murdock would know they had to leave. They'd been through situations like this enough in their days on the run that, although it was unpleasant, it was second nature. He only hoped his friend was holding it together and not succumbing to a panic attack as he wound his way back to the booth.

Face would have never, in a million years, expected to find what awaited him at the table when he returned. Not only was Murdock not having a panic attack, he was oblivious to most everything around them. A hot and heavy make-out session greeted Face.

Kerry straddled Murdock's lap, arched up and over his chest and face. Her hair fell over the two of them, hiding their faces except for the times she brushed it back impatiently as they kissed. The thin silk of her dress molded to her back and hips, and didn't hide Murdock's hand underneath it, reaching around her thigh to her ass.

Luckily the table was bolted to the floor so they couldn't shove it out of the way for more room to maneuver.

Through the din of the patrons behind him on the main dining floor, Face could hear the couple's muffled moans and sharp intakes of breath. Although he couldn't see exactly where Murdock's other hand was, Face could tell when Kerry gasped and pulled back from him that a particularly accurate probing of his fingers stimulated her.

Kerry caught sight of him watching the two of them. Her eyes were dark and her cheeks flushed; with a smile she stretched her hand out to him, inviting him to slide back into the booth next to them.

It aroused him; this was exactly what he wanted to have happen tonight—maybe not in the middle of a public place—and he really wanted to join them, or better yet, take them out of here and find a place where they could truly indulge and lose themselves.

He couldn't deny he still had feelings for Kerry. Seeing her there, wantonly on display on Murdock's lap didn't help suppress those indecent thoughts. Face had made himself a vow, way back when, that he wouldn't ever try to take Murdock's girl away from him. But her reaching for him with wild desire on her face and Murdock being somehow okay with sharing—

Face shook his head hard, and clenched his fists so tightly his fingernails dug into his palms. He had to press his tongue against the top of his mouth to muffle a cry. This wasn't the time or place! With the abrupt interruption they'd just suffered through, giving in to primal urges seemed the worse possible option to choose.

"Murdock, buddy—we've gotta _go!"_ he said hoarsely.

Murdock dragged his gaze from the woman on top of him to Face.

"You're right, Facey," he replied, to Face's relief. "Kerry, hon—we have to leave."

She dropped her outstretched hand as she turned back to Murdock.

As if that hand was the enchantment holding him enthralled, Face didn't feel much of anything but jumpy impatience as Murdock allowed her one last brief kiss. Face dug at his palms again, this time to steady himself from vaulting over the table to yank them to their feet.

"I mean _like five minutes ago!"_ he insisted.

At the sudden sarcasm, Kerry and Murdock disentangled themselves and scooted out of the booth. Face threw a handful of bills on the table, and herded the two out of the restaurant.


	9. Date 2: Act 6

_Act 6:_

Face drove again, taking corners too sharply as he punched numbers into his cell. Murdock didn't start in the front this time; he immediately slid into the back seat with Kerry, still holding her close. Face could hear her asking what, exactly, was going on and his friend trying to explain without actually explaining.

The phone was picked up on the other end.

"Hannibal!" Face said loudly—he knew that Hannibal knew when he started yelling things into a phone something was going wrong. "We're coming back. Get packed up. Sosa was at the restaurant."

"_What?"_ the boss demanded in his ear.

"Sosa fingered us at the restaurant—" Shit, that image of Murdock doing something to Kerry in the booth was hard to get out of his mind! "—and we had some words, and I, uh, ditched her in the alley behind the place. We've gotta high-tail it out of here."

Face could imagine Hannibal pinching the bridge of his nose and wanting to demand more answers, but the only thing the older man said was,

"Fine. We'll get our gear together and be ready to go by the time you get back here. ETA?"

"Um . . ." Face glanced into the rear view mirror at the couple in the back seat. "We've gotta drop Kerry off, so . . . forty five minutes?"

He received a grunt in acknowledgement and the phone went dead in his hand.

"Face," Kerry called to him, "you don't have to drop me off. If you guys need to get out of here, just take me to your place. I can call a cab or my roomie to pick me up."

Face hadn't been able to hear what Murdock finally told her, but shook his head.

"No, we'll take you home. It's not that much difference."

"Seems like it is," she retorted. "Besides, what are you going to do with this car? Aren't you supposed to return it?"

He groaned inwardly. The car. It did need returned . . .

"Take us to our place," Murdock seconded. "We'll get to the house, then Kerry'll take the car back tomorrow like you planned."

Face looked into the mirror again. Both of them were watching him with bright eyes.

"Please, Face. I can do that for you! Then all of you can leave, and you'll be that much farther ahead of schedule."

What _had_ Murdock told her?

"Okay, okay," he grudgingly conceded. "That sounds like a good idea."

"Great!" Kerry smiled, and like at the beginning of the evening, she leaned forward between the seats and kissed his cheek.

After the kiss, she returned to Murdock's embrace. Face figured they'd finish the drive home in silence, but Murdock asked,

"What're the odds of Sosa being in that restaurant, huh? That was kind of bizarre."

Face shook his head. "No . . . Wright-Patterson is pretty close, remember? Charissa's probably on base for something. And I've taken her out to that place before. So . . . you know?"

"Yeah," Murdock grumbled. "Just our luck you pick out swanky restaurants to impress people with, and they like them so much they go back."

Face flicked his gaze to the mirror again. When his blue eyes found the two other pairs in the dark of the vehicle, he wasn't quite sure what to say.

"I'm sorry! I never thought that there might be someone there to recognize us—"

"Oh please," Kerry interrupted. "Do you think we blame you for that? Seriously?"

Murdock nodded in agreement.

"Piss poor luck, that's all."

"I'll make it up to you guys, I promise! We'll go out again—"

Kerry leaned forward again and squeezed his shoulder. Face stuttered to a stop before he could add the gloomy "whenever _that_ might be" to the end of his sentence and mutely accepted another kiss.

They rode the rest of the way back to the rental house in silence, each of them varying degrees of melancholy and angry.


	10. Date 2: Act 7, curtains

_Act 7, curtains:_

Pulling into the driveway of the house, Face saw the curtain drop from the front window.

Before either man could tell her to drive away, Kerry begged,

"Let me come in. Just for a second! I want to say good-bye . . ."

Face looked to Murdock, and realized his friend wouldn't deny her.

The front door was pulled open as the three of them reached it.

"You said forty five minutes, Face!" Hannibal growled. He didn't look startled to see Kerry with them, but that was only because he never looked startled. "You also said you were dropping her off, not bringing her back with you!"

"Easy, Boss," Face soothed. "She just offered to help us out. Make it a bit easier to clear out of here, and save us some time."

Hannibal looked skeptical but didn't waste time protesting any more. "B.A.'s got most of it packed. Face, help him get everything in the van. Murdock, finish up your room. I'll make a last sweep through the house. Since our time table's been bumped up, I expect to be out of here in fifteen minutes."

Both men nodded with military precision.

"Help me upstairs," Murdock said to Kerry, as the other two hurried away.

She followed him. Once in his room, however, she could only stand aside as he packed two duffel bags with his belongings. With the speed and skill he filled the bags, it was evident this wasn't an uncommon event, and she felt out of place.

Murdock zipped his luggage and paused for a moment, glancing around the room.

"I liked this house," he said forlornly. "It might have had ghosts."

Behind him, Kerry frowned and blew her hair out of her face. He spun to her and in two steps was in front of her.

"Hey—don't look like that," he said, running his thumb between her eyebrows to smooth out the wrinkle formed there by her frown. As she relaxed her expression under his touch, he smiled. "There. You're beautiful."

"Thanks," she whispered. "You're pretty hot too."

"Hmm. I'm not sure this outfit has the same flair, nor conveys the same sense of "escaped mental patient" savior-faire as some of my others, but I suppose I can wear it to fool the gentry every now and then."

Kerry managed a half-smile.

"That's not good enough," Murdock ordered. "This escaped mental patient has certain trigger points that set him into an uncontrollable agitation, and half-assed smiles are one of them."

She looked up and saw him with an expression of expectant encouragement on his face.

"Well . . .?" he prompted.

For a second she couldn't respond, then as his expression shifted to even more exaggeration, she truly smiled at him.

"That's better!" he crowed, and kissed her. "You barely avoided setting me off."

Kerry smiled again, but it was dampened quickly. Unable to keep her face to his, she whispered into his chest,

"Will you come back?"

He tightened his hold. "I'll come back. I promise."

Her fingers found the buttons on his vest and fiddled with them for something to concentrate on.

"It's just . . . you're leaving . . . just like you left last time and I never knew where you were. I was always wondering . . ." her voice trailed off, and he thought she was done. To his surprise, she continued sadly, "And now it'll be the same _again._ I just hate being in limbo, you know?"

Murdock rested his chin on her head, trying to come up with anything to say that would mean something.

"Let's go, crazy man!" B.A. hollered up the stairs. "You gotta cut yer make-out session short—Colonel wants us to get a move on!"

Murdock pulled back and looked her over again. "You're so beautiful. Come on—you heard Bosco! No more of this super hot making out that's not sad or depressing at all!"

She was able to chuckle.

He turned and grabbed his bags, and used them to nudge her out the door and down the stairs.

Traipsing carefully back to the first floor, Kerry knew she should just go. Blow everyone a kiss and head out the door, so they could concentrate on getting out too. But still she hung back, even as B.A. yanked Murdock's bags from him, muttering about foolin' around and wastin' time.

Looking like he knew he should be helping but unsure of what to do because Kerry was still there, Murdock shoved his hands in his pockets and watched the black man start towards the kitchen to head to the garage. Pulling out his cell phone, he looked down on the device as if seeing it for the first time.

"Bosco! Bosco, wait!"

B.A. stopped for the moment.

"Your girlfr-uh, _hacker_ friend. Angel! Angel can rig up another phone, right?" Murdock asked eagerly. "She can set up another phone in the network, right?"

"What?" B.A. replied, startled. Then he shrugged. "I suppose she can. Takes a while though. You know that. With all the firewalls and re-programming chips to route through random towers . . . you know it took her like a month to get these up."

"Three months," Murdock corrected.

"Okay, three months. That's a chunk of time just to get a cell," B.A. said. He cast a critical eye over the pilot and the woman standing beside him. His expression softened and his voice dropped a little. "You know Bossman ain't gonna like you not havin' a phone, fool."

"I'll just blame it on the crazy," Murdock replied, rolling his eyes wildly to indicate it.

B.A. rolled his eyes too in habitual exasperation, then continued walking away.

"Here!" Murdock said, turning to Kerry. He forced the cell phone into her hands. "Keep this—"

"I have a cell, Murdock—"

He shook his head and cut her off. "Not like this one. Keep this one for me. You heard what Bosco said, with the towers and stuff. I can't explain it, but this phone has our numbers and you can call us. I can call you. But only on _this_ phone. Okay?"

Kerry closed her hand tightly over the plastic.

"Most times we can't—don't—pick up right away," he continued. "We return calls. But we can call you. And you have to use this phone to reach us. Don't copy the saved numbers and use them from any other phone—not a cell or landline or anything. That's really bad, and will screw up the system. Okay?"

She nodded, although some of it did just sound crazy.

"And there are some numbers for other people too. They're women—okay?—but not girlfriends or anything. I wouldn't give my girlfriend a phone with a bunch of other girlfriend's contacts in it, would I?" Murdock asked as if she accused him. But before she could answer him, he went on. "Please don't contact them either. We're, uh, supposed to not call anyone else's . . . girlfriend, and if one of them gets a call from you, that would be pretty scary for them."

That didn't make any sense to her, and he saw it on her face. Immediately he pulled her close and whispered close to her ear,

"That would mean someone . . . bad . . . found us, and was using our phones to find them."

"Oh," she replied, then nodded quickly.

"You're on that list now too, so don't answer any call that has an unidentified number. Don't answer if it's one of the women listed. Okay?"

Kerry nodded again, and choked, "O-okay."

Murdock lifted her chin and noted tears in her eyes. He knew he had to wrap this up; passed her he could see the other three waiting for him. But he didn't like leaving on a frightening note. He took a second to thumb away her tears. "And you heard that it'll take a while for me to get a new one. So you can call Face. Everyone keeps their phone on them. Call Face."

She took a breath and nodded once more.

He kept his hand on her chin and kissed her. He heard someone—Faceman, probably—step closer as he did so.

"Fifteen minutes, I said," Hannibal said.

His voice was stern and Murdock released her, but it was Face that said,

"One more minute, Hannibal. Just one more."

Kerry turned and found him behind her.

"Sorry about the crappy date," he said in a quiet voice. "Both of you. I'll make it up to you, when we come back."

Kerry opened her mouth to protest his claim of responsibility again, but a squeeze on her hip from Murdock stopped her. Instead, her free hand found Face's. At the touch, Face looked passed her to Murdock for a sign of approval. When his friend gave a slight nod, he dipped his head and kissed her too.

A long-suffering sigh and retreating footsteps marked B.A.'s exit from the scene. Hannibal's incredulity and growing disapproval was almost a physical presence, but Murdock ignored it. He steadied Kerry as Face pressed in, finding her tongue and stealing her breath.

When Hannibal finally growled a warning low in his throat, Face broke the kiss.

The three stood together one moment longer, then the impatience from Hannibal made it too uncomfortable. Face backed away, squeezing her hand as he did so. Murdock stepped around her, keeping contact as long as possible, then he followed the other two men as they went to the kitchen.

Kerry stood catching her breath for a moment before hurrying out the front door. She knew she had to get the car out of the way so their van could back out of the driveway, and she didn't want to hold them up. She found the keys in the car, and held the phone Murdock gave her tightly as she drove away.

_fin._

* * *

><p>note: I marked this finished, but more will be on the way. Hannibal's not happy at <em>all<em> with the situation between Murdock, Face, and Kerry, and I can't just ignore his feelings on the subject. I'll post that exploration as a different story, with reference to this one. And B.A.'s got a girlfriend-_what? _Hey, it's gotta happen. I've got so much going on for them in my head I'm surprised I can function in the real world.

Thanks **WriterMonkey0626, Astra68, **and **danang1970 **for reading and sticking with me! I feel behind the times since my penname doesn't have numbers with it . . . :)


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